Requiem And Sorrow
by pjstillnoon
Summary: There are two kinds of people. Those who run, who won't face anything. And there are those who look you in the eye when they lie to see if you believe them. They want to talk to you to see if you're ok with whatever it is that they've done to you...
1. Chapter 1

**PJPJPJPJ**

"I'm late," Cal told the windshield. He reached for his phone. He should call Gillian and tell her that he was only just leaving the house now. He opened his phone directory and all of a sudden her name flashed up on the screen along with 'incoming call'. He slowed for the light and answered. "I'm late," he repeated.

"Oh hey, yeah, I'm just wondering how far away you are?"

"I've just left. So fifteen minutes."

"Ok."

Silence. Awkward silence.

Cal suppressed a sigh.

"Are you driving?"

"Yes," he responded. '_Cos I just said that I had just left the house._' How else did she think he was getting there? Teleportation? At least she didn't ask him if he was on the phone. That would have been just a wee bit too obvious for his tastes. And she wasn't normally that slow on the uptake. Something was 'off'. With her, with him, with them. It had been that way for a while now and he hated that they had become like this. That there was so much distance. But he had no one else to blame but himself. He had done this to them. It had been so easy to shit all over their relationship, but god damn it was hard to clean that shit up again.

"I'll be right there luv," he added gently. Purposefully gently. He wanted to make it up to her, he just didn't quite know how to go about it. Because an 'I'm sorry' was not going to be enough and if he did that he would also have to explain what he was sorry about in particular, and well, not only did he hate to admit he was wrong, she hadn't brought up anything specific. They were just not talking about nothing.

"I'll go then," Gillian announced and disconnected. Cal dropped the phone onto the passenger seat. He rushed. He barely slowed for stop signs and he snuck through lights by rights he should stop for. Somehow, making it to her place within the fifteen minute promise was important. He didn't want to let her down anymore. He pulled into her driveway and felt a pang of nerves. He checked his watch. It had taken him twenty minutes. He knocked and heard her heels on the polished wooden floors of her front entranceway as she came to answer it.

"Hey," she greeted pleasantly, as she always did.

"Hey," Cal echoed. He followed her in and picked up her bag. Without speaking another word they moved around each other while Gillian grabbed a coat and her purse and Cal put her bag in the back of his car and waited for her to lock up. Then they were on the road, crossing the city, then the border into Maryland and then they were on Route 50 heading east. Gillian pulled a leather bound notebook from her bag and started flipping through pages, reading and jotting down ideas. Cal reached for the radio and turned it up. Two hours in the car with her and he suspected conversation was going to be left behind in D.C.

When they turned on to Route 301 Gillian folded her notes away, slid the book back into her bag and sat back in her seat, adjusting her seatbelt over her shoulder. She looked out of the passenger window. Cal wracked his brain. Surely there was something they could talk about. Something. Anything. The weather if he had to. Cal kept going, skipping over work and... god is that all they had to talk about? Work?

"I see it's meant to snow late-a this week," Cal broke the silence.

"Does it snow in Delaware?"

"I was talkin' about DC."

"Oh."

"But," Cal pushed on. "Yeah it does. A little bit apparently. Doesn't hang around much though."

"Did you google it?"

"Yes," Cal confessed.

"Is that what you do when you're hiding in your office supposed to be doing paperwork?"

"Yeah," Cal admitted with a slight grin. He glanced over at Gillian who was smiling lightly. "I google the weathe-a when I'm avoidin' pape-a work."

Gillian laughed and Cal beamed. She laughed! Progress.

"I'm sorry for bein' late this mornin'. Teenage daughta drama."

"That's ok," Gillian dismissed easily.

"I know you wanted to get on the road early."

"Doesn't matter," she turned towards the passenger window again.

Cal was going to push it a little further but changed his mind. She said it didn't matter but her body language said it did. He didn't seem to be able to do anything right at the moment. His finger tapped the steering wheel. Now what?

**PJ**

'_Now what?_' Gillian thought, watching the state of Maryland slip by them. He was trying to make conversation but she wasn't in the mood. And yet she knew if she didn't at least try to help them get over this road bump he had built she could kiss their friendship and working relationship goodbye. "I haven't seen Emily in a while," Gillian turned back towards him, studying his profile while he watched the road. "How is she?"

"Packin'," Cal responded. "And drivin' me insane. She won't accept the fact that she can't take every bloody childhood memory with her to California."

"Hm," Gillian responded.

"It was her choice to go to college so bloody far away."

"Isn't it a little early to start packing? She won't move for a few more months."

"Her mutha's idea," Cal waved a hand. "So she can go through her things and give away the stuff she's not gonna need anymore."

"Oh dear," Gillian responded. Hence the fights over what she was going to keep and what she was going to take with her etc. She sighed and hugged herself slightly. Cal reached forward and adjusted the heat just as she was about to ask if she could turn it up a little. She smiled. She liked it when things like that happened. It reminded her that they really were connected underneath it all, and just that they were in a weird space at the moment.

**PJ**

The conference was being held in the theatre of the Double Tree Hotel in Wilmington on King Street. But it started tomorrow. Gillian wanted to get there early, rather than later, so she could co-ordinate with the organiser, Agent Devin. Cal asked her if that was because she wanted to be organised or if she just wanted to talk to Agent Devin and he was rewarded with an excessive eye roll, a huffy sigh and then pure silence. But the next second she was chatting away to him again and Cal sighed a proverbial breath of relief.

Cal had stayed in some nice hotels during his lifetime and he had stayed in some absolute dives too. The Double Tree Hotel was a nice hotel. They carried his bags inside and parked his car and the woman on the reception desk was very pleasant. In some hotels, even though they were paid to be pleasant, they weren't. Gillian checked them in because she had 'co-ordinated' with Agent Devin on the entire conference. All Cal was instructed to do was update his usual training seminar. He was speaking on the second day.

"What were the names?" The blonde haired desk clerk asked.

"Doctor Lightman and Doctor Foster," Gillian responded and then looked down to her purse to pull out a credit card and ID. So she missed the expression on the woman's face. It went from recognition to fear and then guilt. Or so Cal thought. They passed by so quickly he thought he had missed them at first. But when Gillian looked up again and handed over her plastic and the woman avoided her eye Cal knew he had seen something. He checked her name, Ursula. That didn't ring any bells with him. He'd ask Gillian about it later. In the meantime he studied her face like a hawk while she went through the rest of her process's, issuing key cards and welcoming them. She was clearly uncomfortable and trying very hard to keep her emotions in check.

"Cal," Gillian said louder.

"Huh?" He came to.

"Here," she was holding out his key card. "Four oh seven."

"Right," he took it.

"I'm across the hall," she announced as she turned and headed for the elevators.

"You know the desk clerk?" He pronounced it 'clark'.

"No. Why?" She turned to him with mildly questioning blue eyes.

"It looked like she knew you."

"I doubt it," Gillian responded lightly. "She probably just recognised..."

"Recognised you from the brochure," Cal finished.

Gillian gave him a slight smile. "Jinx!"

"Damn it," Cal muttered under his breath, his chest feeling light.

The elevator came to a halt. "Cussing under your breath counts," Gillian told him stepping out. She peeled off her coat as they headed down the warm hallway. Cal followed suit, watching her walk ahead of him. She stopped in front of her room. "See you later," she offered.

"Yeah," Cal agreed. He slipped his key into the slot and waited for the light to go green. He could hear the lock click and leaned down on the handle. He turned to ask Gillian if she wanted to get dinner with him but her door was clicking shut behind her all ready.

Cal's bags were all ready in his room and his suit had been hung up in the wardrobe. He wondered if Gillian was going to go downstairs again to meet Agent Devin straight away. He wondered if he should go too, or stay out of her way. She clearly liked the guy. He should just stay out of the way right? Right. So he kicked his shoes off and grabbed the remote and jumped on the bed. At least there was an extensive selection of channels to choose from and he found a football game between Aston Villa and Chelsea. Gold! And now to raid the mini-bar because this was a business expense...

**PJ**

An hour later Cal was in the middle of watching a rugby game between the New Zealand All Blacks and the English Lions. He never really had a lot of spare time to just laze around and watch sport on TV these days. "Oh come on ref!" He hollered at the TV, while gesticulating wildly. "He's been doin' it all day!"

There was a tap at his door and he almost called for the person to come in until he remembered the door was locked from the inside. He got up, watching the screen as much as he could until he had to answer the door. It was Gillian. She gave him a smile. "I can hear you from the elevators," she told his back as he walked back to the bed. "Good game?" She asked craning her neck to see the screen.

Cal jumped on the bed. "How's Agent Devin?"

"Who's playing?" Gillian asked.

Cal pointed at the screen. "Did you get everythin' sorted?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Did he give you his cell numba?" He turned his head in time to catch her reaction. "That was a 'yes'," Cal answered himself.

"Want to get dinner after this ends?" Gillian sat in the comfy chair in the corner and kicked off her pumps.

"Thought you might all ready have dinna plans," Cal responded lightly.

"Nope, Thursday, before we leave."

Cal glanced over at her. She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. He grinned, amused, pleased for her, even as he felt an intense jealous need to shut her happiness down again. "New Zealand in the black, England in the white." He answered her first question.

"Is England winning?"

"Not even close. We're gettin' our arses handed to us."

Gillian giggled. "This is rugby right?"

"Uh huh." He nodded. "And yes, and yes."

Gillian nodded this time. "How much longer?" She checked her watch.

"Half an hour." Cal leaned back against his massive stack of pillows and reached for his beer. "Help yourself to the mini-bar if you want."

"It's a little early for me, especially on an empty stomach."

Cal smirked at the TV while Daniel Carter punted the wall way down the field and everyone ran after it.

"So what happens now?" Gillian asked.

"They throw it back in."

"Too obvious a question?"

"Little bit."

"Ok," Gillian said lightly and then remained silent.

A few minutes later Cal explained what was happening with the line out and the push for the try line. She asked questions for clarification and Cal answered them patiently because the game was all ready lost and he didn't mind talking through the end of it. And besides, they were bonding and that was a good thing.

"All right," Cal turned the TV off. "Let's go eat." He scooted to the edge of the bed and caught his reflection in the full length mirror opposite the bed. His shirt was rumpled. Gillian stood and smoothed out her shirt too with her hands. Cal just pulled his up over his head; he would re-iron it later. Except he probably should have found a clean shirt to put on first before discarding the old one because now he was standing half naked in his hotel room with his business partner who he had a hard time thinking entirely platonic thoughts about. Gillian cleared her throat delicately as Cal pulled the clean shirt over his arms. He turned to her while doing up the buttons. She was staring, a little amused smile on her lips as she pressed a finger between her lips, her blue eyes dwarfed by the size of her pupils. "Like the view do we?" Cal dared to tease.

Gillian's smile widened and she dropped her hand and stalked past him towards the door. "Don't forget your room key," she suggested.

"Right," Cal reached for it and tucked it into his trousers pocket as he stepped into his shoes again and lifted a foot one at a time to the bed to re-tie the laces. He tucked himself in while they were in the elevator and he could see Gillian watching him again in the reflection of the shiny metal doors. He found it excitingly flattering.

By the time they reached the ground floor he was squared away and Gillian's cheeks were a little pink. They were seated at a table for two to the side of the restaurant and handed menus. Their waiter poured water, suggested a nice bottle of red wine, gave Gillian an appreciative glance that she amazingly, at least to Cal it was amazing, didn't notice. It was always amazing how little she noticed in those around her, unless she was looking specifically. Maybe that wasn't fair, she didn't study everyone like Cal did. But in switching 'it' off she missed out on so much. Like the woman from reception.

Cal scanned down the menu quickly, found the eye fillet and decided. Gillian perused her menu and Cal perused her. She curled a few strands around her ear as her blue eyes searched over the pages. The waiter arrived with their wine and poured some into each of their glasses. They both sipped and approved. The waiter poured. He politely asked if they were ready to order. Cal looked to Gillian. She gave a slight shrug.

"I'll have the Classic Beef Eye Fillet, medium rare," Cal closed his menu and handed it back.

"I'll have the Adventurous Moroccan Chicken," Gillian gave the waiter a smile as she handed hers back.

"Would you like anything to start?"

"Bruschetta," Gillian responded.

"Sir?"

"I'll pass," Cal declined. He wasn't a big eater. He ate, and he enjoyed food, but he didn't enjoy eating so much of it he felt like he might burst open at the seams. He had plenty of seams. The waiter took a step back from the table before turning away. Cal liked that too. Good service.

They sipped their wine and had barely even started to begin conversation when Gillian's entree arrived. On a simple white plate thin layers of crisp bread were stacked with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese, fresh basil and rock salt. Balsamic reduction and olive oil was drizzled over the stack and around the plate. Gillian looked impressed. Cal wished he had ordered one for himself. Gillian picked up one of the pieces of bread and took a bite. Cal wished he was the food. She made food sexy. And Cal just couldn't stop thinking about her in that way.

"Good?" Cal asked, reaching for his wine glass again.

"Mh hmm," Gillian nodded. "Want some?" She offered with her eyes.

"Oh," Cal started to decline but Gillian nudged the plate in his direction. Cal took a small sliver of bread that was around the size of an egg. It was good; fresh and almost summery, which was nice in the midst of winter. Cal forced himself to sip his wine and not gulp it back. The room seemed really warm and Gillian's eyes were far too intense across the table. And then his saviour arrived in the form of a family of four; mum, dad, two little girls. He saw Gillian look across at them and was surprised by her neutrality. He looked again, looked harder, focussed in on her eyes, because they were always so expressive. Nothing. Dead air. No wait, that was the point. They were dead. She was closing herself off to what she was seeing. She was affected by the sight of little blonde curls and pink dollies.

Gillian turned back and caught Cal watching her. She gave him a wan smile and finished the last of her entree. She brushed the crumbs from her fingers delicately and Cal saw how she carefully kept her eyes on her plate. He took another nervous sip of his wine. He really needed to fill the void of silence between them before it drove him insane. He needed her to distract him from herself.

"Have I converted you to rugby then?" He started with a nice neutral topic of conversation.

"I'm not sure I understand the game."

"What's to undastand?" Cal retorted good naturedly. "You try and score points by gettin' the ball ova the line. Just like grid iron."

Gillian gave a bemused smile at his purposeful reference to American Football. She had heard many times that 'football' was actually 'soccer' and 'American football' was actually 'grid iron', and she couldn't try and convince him otherwise. "I do like the little shorts and tight shirts. You can see everything!"

"Not everythin'," Cal grumped. That was so not the point of this conversation.

The waiter appeared and took her plate. Gillian thanked him with another smile. Cal hoped that wasn't flirting.

"You see a lot more in rugby uniforms than grid iron uniforms," Gillian humoured him.

Cal gave a bemused grin. "I was thinkin' maybe you could come ova some time and watch a game with me." Scratch that, it was more like an embarrassed grin.

Gillian's returning smile was genuine though. She reached for her wine glass and eyed him over the rim, the deep burgundy of the liquid making her skin seem paler, her eyes seem bluer. "Sure. But you'll have to explain what's happening for me every two minutes."

A sacrifice Cal was quite willing to make if it meant he got to spend an entire hour and a half in her company. "The world cup is on at the moment."

"Oh cool. Who's winning?"

"The All Blacks."

"That's New Zealand?"

Cal nodded.

"Good on them," Gillian added.

Cal nodded again. But enough talking about sports; she had all ready humoured him long enough. Time to not so subtly change the subject. And how convenient that the kids at the table just over from theirs suddenly burst into song. Gillian's attention was drawn to them and longing flashed over her face for just a second. For Cal, it was like a whole minute of continuous expression to study.

"You ever thought about tryin' for adoption again?" Cal asked gently.

Gillian turned back to face him slowly. She gave a little shake of her head. She had tried when she was with Alec and she had tried when she wasn't and neither time had been a great success. Cal suddenly clicked that they were in Delaware, home to Sophie and he decided to drop the subject. That wasn't fair on her.

"Sorry luv," he offered. "That was crossin' a line."

"It was a little," she told him softly. But she looked pleased for a brief second and Cal felt proud. He had respected the line without her telling him to and she _loved_ it. The waiter arrived with their mains. Cal's eye fillet came with chunky smoked potato fries, Jus, panache of green baby vegetables (peas, beans, broccoli heads, spinach) and béarnaise sauce. He looked over at Gillian's plate. Her chicken was stuffed with cream cheese and corn and marinated in Moroccan spices. It was stacked on top of potato and basil gratin with smoked cherry tomatoes dotted around the plate and a much lighter Jus.

The first thing Cal did was cut his steak open to see if it was cooked how he wanted it. It was and he noted down just one more thing he was impressed with, with the hotel. Or maybe he should start a list of things he was happy about with this entire four day conference, because although he had started out late, he and Gillian were having a very pleasant dinner and they were talking easily, without the usual strained air.

And that was progress.

They went back to small talk during their mains. Cal talked about Emily a little more and Gillian talked about Loker, which Cal tried not to read too much into. And then she made a passing comment about Agent Devin and he just about choked on his last mouthful of wine. He wanted to be happy for her, he really did, but the thought of her showing interest in another man made Cal want to get up from the table and stab them out of existence; like knifing a baddie in a computer game who would then go up in a puff of black smoke and Cal would be the hero again. He wanted to be her hero again. There was a time when he was her hero.

The waiter approached to clear the empty plates and Gillian thanked him very much for the food. "Would you like to see a dessert menu?"

"Oh yeah!" Gillian agreed. Cal gave a slight shake of his head. But he was certainly going to enjoy watching Gillian eat hers. When the waiter came back he waited for her to announce she was having the chocolate death or something. The anticipation started to build in his stomach; he couldn't wait to hear her moan. "You should get something," Gillian told him while the waiter waited for the return of her menu.

Cal turned up his nose. "I don't have a big sweet tooth Gill you know that."

"You make me eat my entree alone and now you're going to make me eat dessert alone?"

Oh shit she was pouting.

The waiter waited.

"I'm full."

"Oh come on!" Gillian teased. "You're supposed to be able to eat twice what I can."

Cal's nostrils flared at the challenge.

"They have those caramelised apples you always like."

Cal resisted.

The waiter waited.

"Are you sure?" Gillian asked him again. "Sure you don't want to order? Why don't you just order? As soon as he walks away you'll want to order."

"All right fine!" Cal caved. "I'll have the tarte tatin."

"Yes sir," the waiter responded and took Gillian's desert menu and walked away.

"Happy now?" Cal asked.

"Yes," Gillian gave him a smug smile. "Very." She leaned forward on the table and Cal almost, almost, thought that she was flirting. "I know you Cal. As soon as you see my dessert you'll regret not getting one of your own. You always do it."

"Yeah," Cal sighed and sat back in his chair, fingering the hem of the napkin in his lap. He did always do that and she did know him. The family at the table next to them started to leave and as the youngest girl rounded the table she saw Gillian watching and gave her a small wave. She looked to be about five or six. Gillian waved back and gave a sad little smile. Perfect opportunity to bring kids up again, Cal thought to himself. If they were sitting together under different circumstances. If he wasn't kind of in the dog box. And hadn't been there for the last six months...

Their desserts arrived promptly. Gillian's was a light chocolate sponge with chocolate ice cream, dark chocolate sorbet, a chocolate sauce so dark it almost looked black, and long curved lengths of chocolate tuilles. Cal's stomach curled up at the edges just looking at it. Gillian's face however was pure excitement. Cal waited for the moan of delight. He picked up his spoon slowly to start on his dessert and waited. Gillian was eager to try hers though so she dug into the warm sponge first. She closed her eyes. "Mmmmm."

Cal just about wet his pants. He had been expecting it, but he hadn't been anticipating it properly. He cleared his throat and turned his eyes down to his plate. His tarte tatin had been made individually, the apples fanned out in a perfect circle and coloured perfectly. He inhaled, he hoped subtly, and drew in the strong scent of caramelised apples and cinnamon. There were two reasons he always ordered this dessert if it was on the menu. Firstly, it was just sweet enough for his liking and just light enough for him to be able to handle after eating his main meal. Secondly, sometimes Gillian smelt like apple and cinnamon. And he just couldn't help himself.

"How's yours?" Gillian asked.

"Yeah good," Cal responded.

"You haven't even tried it," she teased.

"Yeah well, I appreciate the chef made it individually instead of in a large pan."

"Hhhmm," Gillian agreed thoughtfully. "Can I try some?"

"Sure," Cal agreed. He expected her to reach out with her spoon but instead she leaned forward in anticipation and he quickly deduced she expected him to break apart a portion for her to try. He could have nudged the plate in her direction, telling her that no, he wasn't going to flirt in this way, but who was he kidding? He loved it. He loved how her eyes closed as she sucked the apples and pastry off his spoon and he loved that when he put his spoon in his mouth they had shared a little connection.

"Mmmm, it is good," Gillian complimented. "Want to try some of mine?"

"Sure," Cal agreed only so she would also spoon feed him over the table. And she didn't hesitate to gather a spoonful of cake and sorbet and ice-cream and lean across the table again. He hated the way she looked at him though; so open and fun and loving and it made him feel like a bigger bastard for stepping over the polite line of friendship several months ago. Suddenly the flirting was too much and he felt uncomfortable and he kept his eyes on his plate until he had finished.

**PJ**

Gillian finished her dessert in silence. She periodically checked on Cal but he refused to meet her eye. These sudden silences and mood shifts made her wish for a way to see into his head. Just as she thought she had him figured out something flashed through his mind that made him almost change completely. They went back to small talk as they walked through the restaurant and to the elevator and back to the rooms. On impulse she kissed his cheek as she said goodnight, hoping to recapture some of their closeness. She wanted to invite him in for a nightcap or something or watch a movie with her but it was late and it was so much harder to cross that bridge when he wouldn't meet her halfway.

She'd barely had a chance to appreciate her room this afternoon because she had rushed to meet Agent Devin. But as she changed and removed her makeup and brushed her hair, getting ready for bed, it was Cal that she thought about. As she turned the air conditioning up a little so it wasn't so cool in the room and climbed into the king sized bed, she thought about Cal. She slept in the middle of the mattress, thinking the bed was entirely the perfect size for sex. And she thought about Cal. Not Agent Devin.

**PJ**

Cal waited for her to unlock her door, as if something bad was going to happen to her in the fifteen seconds it would take for her to get inside. Before she disappeared into her room she turned back and kissed his cheek and gave his shoulder a little rub. "Good night Cal."

"Yeah," he agreed finding other words wouldn't form in his throat. That had just felt like the end of a date. And it shouldn't. Or maybe he should let it. They had been flirty a year ago, he remembered, and then she had got a boyfriend and all of that had stopped. It was a slap in the face, a reminder that he wasn't good enough for her, that she chose other men, Burns in particular, over him.

Cal went to his own room and slipped into the coolness. He stripped off to his underwear and brushed his teeth and dumped the massive stack of pillows onto the chair in the corner and peeled back the covers. He turned off the air conditioning because he knew from experience that it clicking on and off during the night would keep him awake and he would rather get a good night's sleep before he woke up too hot.

As Cal started to drift to sleep he suddenly realised he had been thinking of Gillian the exact moment she had rung him that morning. Weird coincidence? Or the sign of a deeper connection? He wasn't even sure he believed in all of that weird x-filey type stuff. But it still made him smile a little, feel a little lighter. He liked that they did things like that. It was special. He never did those things with anyone else. To him, it meant something. It meant something special.

**PJPJPJPJ**

_AN: Muse and I had a conversation one night (not THAT muse, my muse) about what Muse would like to see written about on . Something not done before. Muse gave me a theme, a one sentence prompt, and then let my imagination run wild. This is a collaboration piece because although I have written it, Muse ok-ed plot ideas, twists, characters, named the characters and yes or no-ed initial drafts. Muse pushed me to write better paragraphs and explore the ideas fully when I was half asleep at 3am and rushing to end the chapter, for the sake of ending the chapter. So credit where credit's due Muse. Also, Muse wanted me to tell you that this story has quite the twist and Muse would like for you to take guesses as to what will happen next. So go wild!_

_It's good to be back. Missed you guys!_

_PJ_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Wow! Such positive response all ready! Thank you so much. As always, thank you so much!_

**PJPJPJPJ**

Gillian stretched out as she started to wake. She found the cool patches of bed and filled them with her warmth. She wished there was someone there to share it with, someone to keep their half of the bed warm so she could stretch out and let their heat warm her for once. She missed that about being married. The going to bed and waking up alone was the worst. Burns had filled that gap for her for awhile. It had been bliss after Alec. Alec had gotten cold but Burns had been nice and warm again.

_Beep beep._

Gillian turned over and peeled back the covers from around her head. She had to half crawl across the mattress to get to her phone on the bedside table. The envelope icon on the screen had a red star on it; she had a text message. She leaned back against the pillow and opened it.

Gud mornin beautiful. brekfast?

Gillian smiled and hit reply. luv 2. half hour?

She was all ready up and picking out an outfit for the day when her phone beeped again.

meet you downstairs

Gillian had a shower and washed her hair and then dried it straight again, so it was smooth and shiny. She got dressed in something respectable but that, as always, showed off her figure and put on a light layer of makeup. Then she checked her watch. She was late. But then, that was her prerogative as a woman wasn't it?

Satisfied that she looked good she gathered together her purse, money, key card, blackberry, lipstick etc and slipped into black pumps and headed downstairs. Agent Devin was waiting for her just outside the restaurant. He gave her a brilliant smile when she approached, all white even teeth. His hair was a sandy blonde colour and cut short and tidy. He wore a power suit with a red tie and crisp white shirt. His shoes were shiny black. He didn't dress like Cal at all. Or Alec for that matter, who was more into subtle suits on his small frame. Agent Devin was broad shouldered, muscled chest and he was taller than her, even in heels.

"I didn't wake you did I?" He asked as they were taken to a seat and invited to help themselves to the buffet, continental or cooked.

"Of course not," Gillian responded.

"Great. I tend to rise early. I like to get going with the day."

Gillian smiled as they walked over to the food. Why was he telling her this? And was she meant to reciprocate? She didn't really know how she was in the morning. She just kind of was. She didn't leap out of bed, but she didn't mooch about in a complete grump like Cal did until he woke up properly at nine o'clock after coffee.

Agent Devin went cooked. Gillian went continental with coffee. Agent Devin drank his coffee black and Gillian, being a psychologist and all, took a great interest in what he picked to eat and drink and the way he kept telling her things about himself. Like how he drank black coffee in the morning to 'get going' and then added low fat milk to it later. Which meant, he wanted to be a morning person, but struggled with it. And he drank low fat milk because he cared about his figure. And that was only reinforced by the cuff links on his sleeves, the expensive watch on his wrist, the fresh hair cut. He cared about his image.

Gillian knew she should stop doing it, but she really couldn't help it, she thought about Cal. He didn't give a toss what anyone thought of him. He wore what he wanted, sometimes went years without a haircut, would laugh at cuff links and drank his coffee black or with milk on some sort of random cycle that only he knew about. Gillian guessed when buying him coffee and he had never turned her down yet.

Gillian stared across the table at Agent Devin's deep brown eyes. He gave her a smile and she returned it and when he went back to focussing on his breakfast she studied him again. Smooth cheekbones, light tan, the man was definitely good looking. And driven to succeed in his work. He was intelligent and open to listening to her. All the things Cal wasn't. And god, she should really stop comparing the two! It wasn't like Cal was her boyfriend or even an ex. If she was going to compare Devin to anyone it should be Burns, or Alec. This breakfast was revealing a lot about herself too.

"Are you a Delaware native?" Gillian asked finding a lull in Agent Devin's discussion about the food.

"Oh no, I'm a New Yorker."

"I love New York!" Gillian gushed.

"Well not a native New Yorker, as you can probably tell from my accent, but," he smiled when she smiled and his brown eyes glowed. "I've been there since college and it's home to me now."

"Where are your family from?"

"Ohio."

"You're a long way from home."

He gave a shrug that made Gillian want to see him in something other than a suit. "I don't have family there any longer. You spend enough time in another city and home doesn't really feel like home anymore. Especially when there are no ties to keep you going back."

'_Damn_,' Gillian thought. '_Insightful too_.'

"Are you a DC native?"

"No," Gillian admitted. "But close by. I grew up in Virginia."

Devin nodded. "How did you get into psychology?"

He had no idea how personal of a question that was. "My father," she told him. "Kind of inspired me to get into the minds of people."

"Cool," he smiled again, brown eyes aglow.

Yeah but what he didn't know and what she wasn't going to tell him was that it was her desire to understand her father's drinking and his inability to give it up that made her want to understand human behaviours, impulses, thought processes, logic.

"Doctor Lightman is an interesting character," Devin asked casually.

He lost points for bringing up her business partner.

"That he is," she agreed.

"How long have you been working together?"

'_Too long_.'

"All right?" Cal pulled over a chair to sit at their table.

"Doctor Lightman," Agent Devin was pleasant.

'_Please don't say 'we were just talking about you'_,' Gillian begged in her head.

"Please join us," Devin finished and Gillian could have just about kissed him. On the cheek, but still. The expression on Cal's face was priceless. He scowled. Actually scowled and leaned forward in his chair.

"What's good then?" He checked out both of their plates and stole a grape from Gillian's.

"Hey!" Gillian objected. Cal gave her a grin, the grape caught between his teeth.

"They make their sausages on site," Devin noted. He placed the last piece in his mouth and chewed slowly and Gillian found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips for real. "They're very good," Devin swallowed.

"Hmm," Cal got up and stalked away towards the buffet.

Gillian watched him for a second and then turned back to Agent Devin, who was wiping his mouth. He placed his napkin on his plate and stood, smoothing down his tie so it didn't dip onto his discarded dinnerware while he got up. "I'm sorry to eat and run, but I have a few things I need to sort out before the conference starts today."

"That's ok," Gillian gave him a smile.

"But thank you for the exquisite company."

Her smiled widened. "Thank you for waking me up this morning."

Devin looked startled, then pointed at her with a grin. "I knew I had woken you up." He chuckled.

Gillian laughed. "I'll see you in there." She watched Agent Devin walk away. She didn't stare but she did look. And the view was just as good in retreat. Cal came back and sat in the agent's vacated seat. He moved the dirty plate out of his way and stole clean cutlery from another table. He had opted for a cooked meal. Gillian went back to her fruit. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah like a bloody baby."

"That's good," Gillian responded.

"What time does this thing start again?" Cal asked around a mouthful of bacon and baked beans.

Gillian checked her watch. "In an hour."

"How'd you sleep?" Cal asked after swallowing.

"Fine thank you," Gillian responded with a polite smile. She finished her coffee. "Can I have the car keys? My lip gloss fell out of my bag."

Cal handed her his key card for his room wordlessly.

Gillian got up. "I'm going to go and finish getting ready."

"I don't think it's possible for you to add anything to how you are now and look more stunnin' than you are now."

Gillian gave him an amused smile. "Thanks," she answered him and gave his shoulder a squeeze as she went by. "See you later."

"Thank you for the exquisite company," Cal said sardonically.

Gillian had to focus very hard not to falter in her step. How had he heard that across the restaurant? Did he have them wired up? Had he planted a bug in her purse or something? That wasn't entirely beyond Cal's realm of ideas on appropriate behaviour.

**PJ**

Cal craned his neck around to watch her walk away. He was trying too hard and they both knew it. But he wanted to recapture what they'd had last night. Nice, easy, flirty banter. Her company was the best. He just wanted more of it. And Agent Bloody Devin was crapping on his chances of that. Because while the all-American-boy-next-door was around it didn't really cast Cal in a very good light.

He wolfed down his breakfast and sculled his coffee and got up again. So now what was he going to do? Not sit alone and eat breakfast that was for sure. Not when Gillian was skulking around with Agent Devin. Or was it the other way around? But he wasn't going to hunt around the hotel for her, because he wasn't _quite_ that pathetic. He sounded petulant, even to himself. He headed out of the hotel. Surely there was something nearby to occupy his time for an hour, even if it was just a walk around the block. Then Gillian could worry about what he was up to. And he could scheme.

Cal headed left out of the hotel and walked a few blocks down, following his nose. He turned left again, intending to walk a large loop back to the hotel but spotted a book store across the street and wandered in to it. Once when he was a kid, he had been in a book store with his mother. She'd told him with his kind of imagination she might come in one day to find his name up there on the shelf. Now, Cal checked to see if his book was in stock. It was. His mother had never seen it though.

Cal snooped around for something interesting to read. Not that he had time to read, just like he didn't have time to watch sports on TV. His mind drifted back to Gillian. Some women in his life he had lost, they had slipped through his fingers while he wasn't looking. And other women, seemed to have slipped through when he was looking too hard. Gillian. He was losing her. He could feel it. It had nothing and yet everything to do with Agent Devin. Cal was the one that pushed her proverbially into the arms of other men and yet every time it happened it cut him a little deeper. Something was going to give. Him, her, them. He could feel it coming like a looming black cloud on the horizon. The heavens were about to open up around him. The shit was about to hit the fan. He was about to fall off a cliff. Pick a metaphor, they were all applicable.

A sales clerk approached to offer him assistance but he brushed her off and left the store. He headed back at a slow pace. He shouldn't have been so brusque. That was what Gillian hated about him. He disregarded other people so easily. See? He knew exactly what the things were that pissed her off. He knew how to push her buttons even when she wasn't in the room. What he had lost track of was whether he did those things to push her buttons or because that's just how he was as a person. Surely he hadn't always been this bad? How did he get here? What had come first? Was Cal a bastard and Gillian had met Burns? Or had Gillian met Burns and Cal had turned in to a bastard?

Cal arrived back with barely time to spare. Most of everyone had taken their seats. Cal scanned for Gillian. She was sitting in the aisle in the back. They weren't there to participate in the conference, this was for FBI agents after all; they were just there to deliver their two cents. They were sitting in to get a sense of what was discussed. Gillian said it was polite. Cal thought he might get a good nap in somewhere in the mid morning and perhaps another one in the afternoon, depending on how long he ended up talking for. She was sitting in the aisle so he would see her, so he could sit with her, so that he could enjoy her exquisite company.

He approached from the next row back and climbed over the seat. Just as he sat the lights dimmed and Agent Devin stepped up to the lectern. The theatre went quiet while they waited for him to begin. Cal wanted to say something to Gillian to break the ice. Normally, he'd make a crack about the speaker, but in these circumstances it probably wasn't a very good idea. She clearly liked Agent Devin. Cal slouched low in his chair while Gillian sat up straight. Maybe they were too chalk and cheese to be anything more than business partners and the years of friendship had been a fluke.

Agent Devin welcomed the first guest speaker. The theatre applauded politely. Cal slouched further. Maybe he should have brought a book to read. Because he didn't really want to be alone with his thoughts right now. They were making him feel funky. Gillian appeared to be listening.

Cal kept his tongue during the first morning session. Morning tea was a buffet of coffee, tea, cakes and fresh fruit and he was forced to make conversation with Devin and some of the other guest speakers. Gillian would normally run interference for him, make conversation, make him look human but she managed to slip away so he had to fend for himself. And he knew he couldn't do anything to embarrass her because if he had any hope of bridging their enormous gap he had to be on his best behaviour. He knew that.

At the start of the second morning session Cal sat further in the back, in the dark shadows, so he couldn't be seen by most of everyone. He intended on having a nap. Especially after a nice cup of tea. "Wake me up if I start snoring," a voice in his ear snapped his eyes open again. Gillian stood over him and waited for him to shift his legs to the side so she could get by him. She went ass to face and gave Cal a very nice view as she shuffled by. He was tempted to reach out a hand...

Gillian sighed as she sat down. "Thought you were interested in all this stuff," Cal turned his head towards her.

She eyed him for a second. "You're not the only one who can pretend Cal." She slouched down in her chair, not as far as Cal, but enough to indicate she was not paying attention to the speaker.

Cal gave a slight grin. He faced the front again. "Docta Fosta, comes across all innocent sunshine and light."

"I _am_ all innocent sunshine and light."

"Hmm," Cal mused.

Gillian's hand crashed into his arm. "I _am_," she insisted good-naturedly. "It's you I worry about."

"I know," Cal murmured. He felt her stiffen next to him slightly. He focused on the speaker at the podium. He had a way of pronouncing his 's's' that was quite amusing. It wasn't a lisp but was certainly a different kind of annunciation. "Two points every time he says an 's'."

"Five points every time he touches his nose," Gillian responded.

So they played for a while until Gillian started giggling and then elbowing him in the arm and ribs to tell him to be quiet, as if it were his fault. Cal won anyway, a clear fifty points ahead of her. "If I eva give a lectcha that borin' come up on stage and knee me in the groin."

Gillian laughed again and then clamped a hand over her mouth. "Stop it!" She hissed at him. "All I need is an excuse!"

Cal chuckled lightly. He checked the time on his phone. There was still an hour to go. "We could sneak out."

"Hmmm," Gillian mused. "May as well stay until the end."

"Is that so you can score points with Agent Devin?"

"I doubt he even knows I'm here."

"I'm sure he does luv." Cal connected to the internet. He found Emily's face book page and logged in to it.

"Does Emily know you have her password?" Gillian's voice was close.

Cal turned his head fractionally to see she was leaning in towards him. "Probably. She keeps changin' it."

"If you're going to frape her I'm going to have to object. On moral grounds."

"No frapin'," Cal insisted. He found his daughter's farm and checked up on the status of the animals and crops. "Just tendin' my garden." He watered the corn.

Gillian pressed closer to see the screen. Cal tilted it slightly towards her but not so much as to be helpful. She shifted so she was closer still, so her chest was pressing against his arm and her forehead was just about in contact with his. He could smell that sweet apple and cinnamon scent. Was it her shampoo? Body lotion? Lip gloss? He could feel the warmth of her skin just about in contact with his face. How could she be this intimate with him and yet go on a date with Agent Devin? It conflicted Cal in a way he didn't know how to solve. It was unfair and yet he had no grounds on which to complain on.

**PJ**

"Excuse me, Doctor Foster?"

Gillian stopped and turned back. The blond haired desk clerk was standing just outside of the theatre entrance doors and was looking at her and for a second she seemed vaguely familiar. Gillian shook it off, gave her a warm smile. "Yes?"

"Catch me up," Cal instructed striding away to join the rest of the conference crowd for lunch.

Gillian agreed and turned again to the desk clerk. She could read her name badge now: Ursula. Another tug at her memory. Ursula was an unusual name. Where had she heard it before? Had she been a client, witness, victim?

"I checked you in yesterday," Ursula started.

"Yes, I remember," Gillian assured. She noticed Ursula was taking slow guiding steps across the lobby to the front entrance. She wondered what this was about.

"You're Gillian Foster? From DC. Your husband is Alec?"

Gillian's heart felt suddenly cold with a realisation she wasn't quite getting. "How do I know you?" She asked stopping them. She wasn't willing to play along anymore. Not until she knew what the young woman wanted.

Ursula had long dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes and she was shorter than Gillian by a few good inches. But there was no distinctive feature about her that was supposed to trigger something in Gillian's mind. Only the name kept bugging at her.

"We met several years ago," Ursula explained. She looked out through the main doors of the hotel and Gillian followed her line of sight. She expected to see a long lost friend or patient of hers, someone she had helped. What she saw was two of the above. Long lost friend and someone she had helped. What she saw was the blonde hair of a four year old girl. Gillian's heart stopped dead as realisation struck her chest with the icy cold grip of fear and hope rolled into one chilling lurch.

Sophie.

She turned back to Ursula, shocked. Ursula gave her a hopeful nod and opened her mouth to say something.

No.

"Do you want to meet her?"

Gillian took a slight step backwards. First thought: no. Second thought: run. "I can't do this," she said backing up further to escape the bubble of intimate conversation Ursula had created.

"But, wait, we should talk," Ursula tried, turning as Gillian walked around her.

"No," Gillian repeated starting to walk away.

"Wait! Gillian! Please! I want to talk to you."

Gillian kept on walking, ignoring, wishing, hoping this wasn't happening. She headed quickly towards the elevators. All of them were indicating they were several floors above her head, and not wanting to stop and give Ursula the opportunity or idea to follow her, she kept walking purposefully towards the stairs. First thought: no. Only thought: no.

She raced up one flight and broke through to wait for the elevators there. She wasn't going to run several flights up to her room, not in pumps and a pencil skirt. Thankfully the doors pinged open a few seconds later, and heart racing with the fear of being cornered again, Gillian ducked inside and hit the button for the fourth floor. She pounded it again and again, desperate for escape.

This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't. What were the chances that she would check into the hotel where _she_ worked? She hadn't even _been_ to Delaware since... And she was so _big_! It had been how long? She still had that blonde hair!

Gillian found her fingers were trembling as she waited for the elevator doors to close. And when they inched shut she felt trapped. Claustrophobic, like her entire life was suddenly closing in on her. The past was not supposed to sneak up on her in this way. There were rules. She had signed paper work. She said she would never try to interfere, make contact, see her again. She would not interfere with the birth mother's rights. What about Gillian's rights? The rights to not have to deal with this all over again? The right of refusal. The right to be afraid. The right not to open the wound again. The right to not cry her eyes out every night for three weeks and four days all over again.

Gillian forced the doors open when the car came to a halt again. She let herself into her room and paced back and forth in front of the bed for a while.

No. Just no. No way.

She turned, spotted car keys on the table. She grabbed them and found her bag was all ready in her hands. She walked in a daze to the door. She walked numbly down five flights of stairs to the basement. She blindly found Cal's car. She turned the engine over on autopilot, slipped it into drive, pulled out on to the street. She headed south to connect with Route 301, the road that would take her home again. Back to sanity. Back to where ghosts didn't confront her on Delaware Tuesdays.

Ten minutes out of the city and Gillian had to turn on the wipers; it was snowing. Strange, she didn't feel cold. Or anything else for that matter and she hadn't even noticed the grey snow clouds. She didn't feel anything beyond an insane desire to get home again. As if home could erase the hurt and fear and sorrow from her mind and heart and soul, from her bones.

**PJPJPJPJ**


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Rugbygirl, thought you'd like that bit!_

**PJPJPJPJ**

The first hour Gillian drove she barely registered the road. She didn't hear the radio, she didn't see the snow, she didn't notice the cold. And then, as if she had crossed a boundary that existed somewhere between Delaware and Maryland, a magical line marked down on her soul, she was all of a sudden angry. She was so fucking angry her throat burned with an intense need to swear her head off. So she did. She screamed and raged angry hot tears and words at the windscreen for ten minutes solid. She even pulled over because she felt there was a real chance she might cross that centre line and meet a truck on the other side. But she didn't feel any better.

All that agony, all those months, she was feeling all of it again. Everything. Having Sophie taken away from her. Having Alec pull away from her. Having her life spin on its axis away from her. She felt broken again, like her life was out of her hands again, like she had been cheated again. Shattered, kicked, bruised, shit on. How the fuck had any of this happened? In what sick fantasy had she decided to adopt a little girl? From that woman. Of all people, why had it been that woman? During what part of the process had she felt comfortable with Ursula? Had she? Had she even felt at any point that she was comfortable with Ursula? Or had she wanted to be a mother so bad she had ignored her instincts? She didn't remember anymore. And it killed her.

Before she knew it Gillian was back in DC. Suddenly home didn't feel so comforting after all. Besides, what did she have there waiting for her? No Alec. No Dave. No Milton Devin, FBI Agent with ambition and career prospects and a body that probably would do complete justice and then some to a speedo. She probably should call him and tell him she had left. And Cal! He would be looking for her about now. And she had taken his car. She searched through her purse with one hand. Her all ready terse nerves leant to frustration. At the lights she grabbed the bag with both hands and dug. Where was her phone?

Oh. She'd left it in her room, so it wouldn't disturb the conference. Ok, well she'd call Cal from the office. It was closer than her house. What was she going to say to him though? She felt a little foolish now. How was she going to explain? She didn't want to tell him the truth and yet what other excuse was going to sound plausible enough?

"Hey! You're back early."

Gillian gave Loker a wan smile. "Forgot something."

"Typical Lightman," Loker rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Gillian agreed with a forced laugh, happy to let him make the assumption, and was grateful that he wasn't Lightman, that he didn't see through her thinly veiled control and that he didn't push her further than that. She went to Cal's office to keep up the pretence. She went around his desk, sat on the edge of his chair, reached for his phone and stopped. She couldn't call him. She couldn't. She didn't know what to say. She just couldn't. She didn't... couldn't...

**PJ**

Cal expected Gillian to slip in sometime just after he had started, to come and take her place in the front row or stand off to the side. But she didn't show. She wasn't waiting for him outside and he went up to her room and knocked politely on the door. He wasn't worried yet; it was just strange. In his mind he would accuse her of sneaking off with Agent Devin, but Devin had been front row centre the entire time Cal had talked. He pulled his phone from his pocket and connected a call to her cell. A second later he could hear it ringing inside her room. He let it ring, because if it suddenly went quiet it would mean she was in there and hiding from him, or the world. Whatever. It went to voicemail.

Stanger still. He felt a moment of blind panic. What if something had happened to her? Snatched, hit by a car, fell down the stairs? Where should he look first? God, if something had happened to her...

"Gill, call me," he left a message as he headed downstairs again. First things first, he would get into her room. And then systematically widen the search. And if he had to, he'd get Devin involved. Cal checked his watch. He only had half an hour until he was expected to be back up on the podium to deliver the second half of his lecture. The elevator by passed his order to go to the first floor and went to the basement instead. He hated it when elevators did that kind of thing. Especially because he was in a hurry. A couple were down there waiting. Cal started to stand aside to make room for them and changed his mind. He had given Gillian his car keys. He powered down the rows, scanning back and forth. Nope. His car wasn't there. He doubled backed and pressed for the elevator and when it didn't arrive in the next second he headed for the stairs impatiently.

Cal approached the front desk and lo and behold, but who was behind it? Ursula, the one with a lot of guilt on her face. "Hi. I'm with the Lightman Group, part of the conference. I checked in with Docta Fosta."

Ursula nodded.

"I need a spare key card to her room. She's lost hers."

Ursula's expression faltered a little. "I'm not sure I can authorise that."

"Let me speak to a managa," Cal responded calmly. "I'm sure we can sort somethin' out."

Guilt flashed across Ursula's face again and Cal knew, he just knew that something had happened and Gillian had bailed; taken his car and driven home. That something involved this woman standing in front of him, otherwise she would have pointed out that Gillian needed to be present to get the key herself. He just couldn't put two and two together, and he didn't have time. If Gillian was upset... he needed to make sure she was all right.

Ursula silently copied another key for Cal and he silently accepted it. She didn't tell him to keep it to himself and he didn't accuse her of being the last person to see Gillian before she had disappeared. He could see the heavy guilt in her eyes.

Cal went upstairs, slipped the key into Gillian's rooms lock and let himself in. He called out, warning her that he was coming in but got no response. Her room was cool. And empty. Her phone was on the table. Cal went to it and picked it up, as if she were under it, or perhaps, hiding within it. He tried her home number, which just rang and rang and rang. Then he tried her office number but the call was immediately diverted to their front reception. Anna answered. Cal asked if Foster was there.

"Yeah, she's in your office."

"Put me through," Cal demanded. The line went quiet and he could hear it ringing now for his office. It rang and rang and rang. Cal hung up before the call could go back to Anna. Damnit. Where was she? He could check the cameras. But he needed his laptop for that and he was out of time. He headed downstairs again. As he crossed the lobby to the theatre entrance he searched for Ursula. He would love to get his eyes on her face. He was going to grill her so damn hard.

"Doctor Lightman," Agent Devin was waiting for him. "We're ready to begin when you're ready."

"Yep," Cal responded, Gillian's room key burning a hole in his pocket. She would want, no expect, him to finish the damn lecture, and then go and find her.

**PJ**

Gillian sat for long minutes, thinking, not thinking, thoughts swirling, nothing comprehensive at all. And then the phone on Cal's desk rang and startled her out of the reverie she was in. She figured, in a moment of lucid logic, that she was in shock. But as she reached for the phone it stopped ringing and she settled back in Cal's desk chair and went back to staring numbly at the floor. If someone walked in she was going to have a hard time insisting that she was fine but she just couldn't get her mind to focus on one solid thing. She had images of a bundled new born. Of taking the baby home for the first time. The first time she held such a tiny body in her arms. The sweet clean smell of a little girl who hadn't had the chance to be spoiled by the world.

She didn't want to think about it.

She had probably blown things with Agent Devin. He was a very good looking man. And he was nice to her and she deserved nice didn't she? Wasn't it about time she found a man who listened to her, who enjoyed her company _and_ respected her? Respected her like she deserved. She had opinions too and ideas and good ones. Why was it that Cal never saw that? Why did he never treat her properly? Why did he always have to be charming and funny and make her look forward to his company only to feel like she was on a rollercoaster, never sure if he was up or down, if he was going to be sweet or cold, funny, flirty or obnoxious and distant. How was it Milton Devin made her feel warm like a billion megawatts of candle power and Cal Lightman made her feel more insecure in her own skin than she had ever felt. Until this moment. This topped all moments of insecurity.

Still not thinking about it.

And she went back to Agent Devin, then inevitably back to Cal. Thoughts that should have been about a daughter long lost always traced back to the men in her life. She started to fidget, a nervous energy she didn't know how to dispel properly. She tidied Cal's desk, straightened photos, moved them to better angles. He'd have a fit. Maybe he'd forgive her. Maybe not. She thought Alec would forgive her. For not having their own children. For pushing him to adopt. For losing Sophie for the both of them.

Not thinking about it!

She pulled a file on Cal's desk closer. The Mercer case. Ria had done a preliminary interview. Cal was supposed to be doing a follow up. Typical the file had been on his desk for a week. Not that that meant he hadn't worked on it. It probably just meant he hadn't signed it and put the damn thing away. Sometimes she loved that his mind was over crowded. Sometimes it drove her insane. She read the file. It was a nice distraction. But then it was finished and she could see those pink booties and little hats with rabbit ears stitched on them and...

Damn! It! Not. Thinking. About. It.

She had to get out of there. She had to force herself to get up and leave the building and just go home! She was a big girl! She could do it. She would have to call Cal. She would have to explain and she would have to organise for him to come home. They had driven because flights seemed a little bit ridiculous. The flight time between DC and Delaware was ten minutes. They'd spend two hours just waiting in transit. Cal had suggested they drive. Now that she had his car how was he going to get home? There must be a bus. There must be a way. Why the hell was she stressing out about this?

Gillian turned the chair. She got up. She noticed her legs were shaky. It was too easy to talk herself into sitting back down again, so she didn't. She took a step forward, her hips feeling foreign and then another and then another and before she knew it she was half way across the room, making great progress. All she needed to do now was slip out unnoticed and she would be home free. She could hear voices in the hallway outside of Cal's office door. But she didn't register them in time to stop and the next second a little blonde haired figure was running into the room and crashing in to her legs.

Blue eyes looked up at her. A nose that was familiar. Lips that widened in an 'oh' of surprise.

"Say sorry," a mature voice instructed from over the little girl's head.

"Sorry."

Gillian sucked in a breath so sharply she almost choked on it. She looked up to see Ursula standing there, car keys in hand, hotel uniform still on her slight frame. Anna was leaning over the desk giving Gillian a confused expression. Ignoring them both, Gillian crouched down. "What's your name?" She asked. Although what compelled her to do so she didn't know. Confirmation perhaps?

"Sophie," she answered shyly and turned back to her mother. Ursula stepped forward and placed a hand protectively, reassuringly, possessively on the top of her daughter's head.

"My name is Gillian," she responded.

"That's a pretty name," Sophie responded.

"Thank you," Gillian smiled. Genuine. Warm. She stood up again. "Would you like to come in?"

Ursula gave Sophie a little push forward. And Sophie gave a nod in response and stepped forward. Gillian indicated they should take a seat on the couch across the room and she moved to close the office door. She gave Anna an assuring smile and a little hand gesture, it was ok. Anna nodded and disappeared back to her work again. Gillian noticed her heart was pounding as she turned the knob that held the door in place. She almost didn't turn around. Almost. And then Sophie spoke again. "Look Mommy at the pretty picture."

She had such a sweet voice Gillian was compelled to turn and see her and be near her. She still hadn't quite looked Ursula in the eye. Sophie was pointing at a painting on Cal's wall. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Yes," Ursula spoke up. "It's very pretty."

Gillian crossed the room and sat in the armchair opposite the painting. It was hers. Or more accurately, she had picked it out and had it hung on Cal's bare wall and after three weeks he had finally noticed it there and said it was 'all right'. Gillian didn't even remember the artist anymore. She used to know that kind of thing, right now she was having a hard time remembering her own address.

Ursula turned to her. "I recognised your name when you checked in yesterday."

Gillian finally met her eyes. Sophie's eyes. She swallowed hard. She nodded.

"I wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to meet Sophie."

Sophie's ears pricked up at her name and she came over, clinging on to her mother's arm.

"Would you like to do some drawing?" Gillian asked her. She got up again. Anything to distract from the conversations she knew was coming. She crossed to Cal's desk and took a stack of paper out of his printer tray and pens, pencils and highlighters from his desk drawer. Sophie took them and immediately started drawing. "Say thank you," Ursula prompted.

"Thank you," Sophie responded.

Gillian sat again, smoothing her skirt even though it was wrinkle free.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what you did for me. Looking after Sophie the way you did."

Gillian felt an anger start to burn in her throat.

"I was in a really bad space when I found out I was pregnant with her."

Gillian wondered if Sophie was listening to anything that was being said, because they were talking about her right in front of her. If it was up to Gillian, she would make sure _her_ children weren't in the room when having this kind of conversation. "I remember," Gillian murmured. She remembered meeting Ursula at seven and a half months. That was their first meet. That was the first time Ursula had contacted the agency about the Foster's. She had picked them, not the other way around.

"Right, so you know how hard it was a decision to make, giving her up."

"I can imagine," Gillian responded numbly. Of course she knew what it was like having to give Sophie up. But Ursula had had a choice. Gillian didn't get any say in the matter whatsoever. Not even the time they came to get her.

**PJ**

The helicopter thundered across the DC sky. Cal pretended he could see his house from up there but the truth was it was way over the other side. They were coming down on the CIA building and there was a shudder as the pads contacted with the concrete roof. Cal whipped his head set off and patted the pilot on the shoulder to thank him. He got a thumbs up in return as the side door was pulled open by personal in the landing crew. He ducked as he climbed to the ground and quickly crept towards the safety zone painted beneath him. He was ignored as the real passenger was unloaded behind him in cuffs.

Cal raced down the corridor and a flight of stairs until he reached the lifts. He punched the button to head down and checked his watch. Even with Gillian leaving several hours ago, with her drive time factored in, she would have been back for just over an hour and a half-ish. He was guessing.

On the ground floor he got a cab and went to her place. He expected his car to be there on the street but it wasn't and she clearly wasn't there. So he got back in the cab and headed down to the office. He had spare sets of keys there, for his place, her place, cars and she had been there before when he rang, maybe she would be there again.

Cal strode through his air conditioned building, bee lining for her office. Anna stopped him, "Doctor Lightman!"

He turned slightly to acknowledge her but barely slowed.

"They're in your office."

Cal turned on his toes, nearly losing his balance and headed through the sliding door to his study. He could hear the murmur of voices as he got closer and then he could hear Gillian's. It was strained. Then the little voice of a little girl and he froze. Wait, '_they'_ were in his office? Who was '_they'_? He stepped in to the gap and studied the scene in front of him. Gillian sitting in the armchair, Ursula on the couch nearby, Sophie (because it had to be Sophie, Cal reasoned, it was the most logical conclusion to come to) showing Gillian something on a piece of paper. Cal could see his highlighter pens scattered across the table, with sheets of paper and the strained set of Gillian's mouth. The conflict etched around her eyes. More importantly, she looked incredibly unhappy, trapped, and her eyes continued to flicker towards the door, a subconscious escape. Sorrow. She was showing such sorrow.

Cal slid the door fully open and Gillian's head turned to him in surprise and then relief. "All right luv?" He asked her. Her expression fell slightly. He crossed the room. "Ursula," Cal got her attention. "It's time to go luv."

Ursula looked as though she was about to object. Cal crouched down to Sophie's level. "Hi Sophie, sweetheart. Can you help Gillian pack up the felts?" He got to his feet again and waited. He watched Ursula and how she avoided their eyes. He felt the tension in the air around them all. Gillian moved slowly, reluctantly, but she didn't object. Sophie busily put things back in order. She gave the pens, pencils and highlighters to Gillian. And in the meantime Cal just about dragged Ursula out of the room by her elbow while everyone was distracted with something else. He felt a surge of anger and protectiveness. He didn't manhandle her though. He just hovered, guided with his body, shielded Gillian from view so Ursula couldn't appeal. He wanted her gone. Gillian wanted her gone, even if she didn't say it aloud.

"Thank you for helping Sophie," Gillian spoke as they approached. "It was very nice to meet you."

Sophie skipped along beside her. Cal and Ursula waited at the door. Ursula studied her feet. Cal studied her. Gillian glanced at Cal but nothing passed over her face for him to see. That kind of expression on her scared him.

"Say goodbye Sophie."

"Goodbye," Sophie echoed. She slunk over to take her mother's outstretched hand.

"Maybe we could keep in touch?" Ursula tried.

Cal just about cleared his throat in warning but held back. Maybe Gillian wanted that? He checked her face. No she didn't. She didn't answer either. He placed a hand on Ursula's shoulder and applied a little pressure. Ursula took a step towards the doorway and Sophie was tugged along with her. "Can I give Gillian a hug goodbye Mommy?" Sophie's clear voice cut through them all.

Cal watched Gillian's head snap up as Ursula looked her square in the face. He watched something potentially awkward as hell turn into something sweet. "Of course if you want to," Ursula responded.

Sophie tugged her hand away and approached Gillian's knees with her arms open. Gillian crouched down again and put her arms around the little body. Cal felt a lump rise into his throat. God that was so sweet and Sophie had no idea what she'd just done for Gillian with such a simple gesture. Gillian rubbed Sophie's back. When she pulled away she gave her a smile. "You be good," she told her.

Sophie nodded gravely and went back to her mother and Cal went back to gently shoving her out the door again, closing it on his way. He kept his hand on Ursula all the way to the front door. Then he followed her through and out to her car. If Ursula objected to him stalking her she didn't say. Sophie skipped along talking to herself, clearly oblivious to the tension between the adults.

Cal hovered while Sophie climbed into her car seat in the back and Ursula made sure she was secured properly. Then Ursula crossed around the front of the car to get in the driver's side. Cal reached out for her elbow and stepped in close. "Now fuck off," Cal growled at her in a low voice. "Don't ever come back, don't ever contact her again, don't even think about it. You've got a nerve showin' up here like this. You got any idea what you've done to her, you selfish bitch? Do you get off on it? Is it pushin' your buttons in all the right ways?" Cal felt like an asshole saying the words, but a part of him conceded they needed to be said, another part relished in the way she reacted. He wanted to her hurt somewhere on the level that she had hurt Gillian.

Ursula froze up. She drew her elbow in against her body tightly and trapped Cal's fingers against her ribcage. Cal pulled his hand free and took a step back, satisfied with his handy work. "Who are you to even...?"

"Who am I?" Cal cut over the top of her. Gillian might forgive him for being an ass on this occasion. "I'm whoeva she needs me to be. That means if I have to tell the dregs of her life their place I will. You should have done the decent thing and looked the otha way when you recognised her. You should have left it the fuck alone. Especially afta all this time. You got what you wanted. You won. Why would you even come back? To rub it in her face?"

She didn't meet his eyes or even look in his direction as she got in the car. Cal didn't need to ask if she had heard him, or understood. She did. He could tell. He waited for her to start the engine, put on her seatbelt and pull away from the curb. He even made sure she had turned at the end of the block. He couldn't move until she was out of sight.

Then Cal power strode back to the office. He ignored Loker on his way back to his office. Even though the surprised 'you're back too!' drew the attention of several other employees, Cal didn't stop. He slipped into his office through the smallest space he could create in opening the door. Gillian was on the couch, sitting right on the edge, staring at the table in front of her. She reached up a hand of slender fingers and wiped her cheek, but she didn't blink. She didn't react to Cal's arrival. She didn't flinch when he sat next to her. She didn't breath as he put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on luv, I'll take you home."

**PJPJPJPJ**


	4. Chapter 4

**PJPJPJPJ**

Nothing but crickets on the way to her house. She didn't even sniffle. Just periodically wiped at the tears falling from her eyes. Cal wanted to break the silence, he wanted to say something to comfort her. He was certain he had done the right thing in telling Ursula to get the hell out. But he really wanted to know Gillian was ok. Not ok with it, what he'd done, because he could tell he had only acted on what she didn't have the strength to do herself. No, he just wanted to know that she was ok. She was too quiet. He was scared. She looked broken.

They pulled into her driveway and Cal cut the engine. He turned to her, waited for her to say something. But she didn't. She just sat. She was a million miles away. Cal released his seatbelt and popped the button on hers to. She absently moved her arm out of the way so it would retract. But still no coherent movements from her. Cal got out, went around to her side of the car and opened the door. He took her arm gently and tugged and coaxed and held her hand while he closed the door again and led her up the path to her door. He unlocked it for her with his key, because they seemed to have left her bag in the office. He didn't think about those kinds of things.

He switched on lights as he followed Gillian through the house. He turned the heat up against the cold. Snow clouds were moving in casting the world in grey. He put the electric jug on for tea and went to find her. She was in the living room. Barely sitting on the edge of the couch, still staring off into space. He sat himself in the armchair and watched her, thinking about what he was going to do next, how he was going to help her, if he should leave, or stay, get her talking, or just leave her in silence.

"Thank you," Gillian spoke quietly. "I thought I would want to see her, because it's Sophie, but I couldn't do it."

"You're," Cal started.

"How did she even find me?" Gillian kept going. She turned to look at him. "How?" She demanded.

"I don't..."

"Did she follow me back?"

Cal stopped talking. She didn't really want him to answer. So he just listened while she mused about Ursula probably finding the office address from their billing information through the hotel's records. And then her clearly loading Sophie into the car to come on down and unload her conscience on to Gillian.

"I feel used!" Gillian's voice started to rise. "It's like she came to see me because I'm a psychologist and she wants to assuage her guilt! It was nothing to do with how I feel about Sophie!" Tears sprung into her eyes and throat again and Cal fought down the urge to get up and sit with her, to put his arm around her. He could see the anger rolling off her in wave after wave of pent up energy and emotion.

"Selfish," Gillian spluttered. "Selfish bitch!"

Cal wondered what they had talked about. What had Ursula come to say?

"She comes in all contrite, telling me this big sob story about her life."

Cal was almost impressed. He almost smiled. If this had been a different circumstance he would have marvelled that they had done it again. That they had had the same thought at the same time.

"She was in a bad place. Her boyfriend was a crack addict. She was using. They were getting into trouble. Serious trouble. He was smacking her around. She couldn't raise a baby in that kind of environment. So she put her up for adoption."

Cal wondered if he was meant to comment. But Gillian kept going.

"And then she tells me she held her after the birth. I was there Cal. Alec and I drove over to get Sophie and she held her after the birth and changed her mind. She held her little girl and changed her mind."

Cal got the impression Gillian was quoting Ursula's words. His stomach quivered with anger but he kept perfectly still.

"She moved in with her mother. She stopped using. She got rid of the father. She got a job. She sorted her life out. And then she wanted Sophie back."

The anger in Cal's stomach curled into his intestines and started to spread upwards.

"She wanted her back because she was her little girl. Her baby girl."

The anger reached Cal's heart and it started to beat painfully, begging for action.

"She was my baby girl! Mine!" Gillian's voice got louder again. Cal's hands twitched. He wanted to smash something or hug her. Gillian sobbed suddenly and broke down into tears and Cal was up and across the space between them in less than a second. He had his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into him and she sobbed again and again onto his shirt and neck, "she was my baby girl, she was my baby girl."

Cal fought back a sting of tears in his own eyes. He hated the sound of someone's heart breaking. It was worse that it was Gillian's. In another universe, Cal might have thought it admirable that Ursula cleaned up and sorted out her life for her daughter. She was clearly respectable now, holding down a job and taking care of her child. But not at the expense of Gillian.

"I hate that she just pawned out her daughter when it suited her and went back to get her when it suited her and..." Gillian's hand tightened into a fist in Cal's lap and he was scared for her again. "And she only came to get her own sense of closure. She didn't give a shit about mine. She just rolled on in and... and..." she hesitated, choked on the words. Cal's fist tightened against her shoulder. "Ursula Hopkins is a fucking disease."

Cal almost chuckled. "Come on Gill, she..."

"No Cal," Gillian pulled away, anger flashed in her blue eyes. She sat up away from him, her body language distancing them again. Cal realised then that she wasn't ready to be logical or understanding. She needed to vent. "Fuck her. She infected my life the moment she decided to take Sophie back."

"No Gill," Cal cut in quietly, leaning back against the cushions. "She infected your life the day she decided to give Sophie up for adoption."

"Exactly!" Gillian got to her feet and kicked her pumps off. She started to pace. "She's like this parasite that's wormed its way into my mind. She's in there. She has been since day one! Sucking the god damn life out of me. And everywhere I turn I can imagine seeing Sophie and I think about Ursula and I just!" She reached the wall and seemed to study it for a second. But she turned and started to stalk around the back of the couch.

Cal followed her with his eyes until he couldn't see her anymore. She was probably being very astute even if she was ranting right now. Ursula, Sophie, the whole thing, had been eating away at her from the inside for a very long time; years and years. All of this had been hidden away deep inside her where she probably didn't even know it existed until it had built into this fiery agony. It had killed her marriage, although Cal would never dare to say that aloud. But he suspected it had. He suspected Alec hadn't coped and had turned back to cocaine and ultimately that had killed their marriage. But Ursula was still at the root of the problem...

"I just want to get it out of me Cal. I want to get her out of my head! I just want to," she stalked back into view again. Her fingers were stretched into tense claws, up turned as she gestured towards her head. "I just want to tear my own head open with my fingernails and get rid of her once and for all."

Cal actually felt a bit alarmed by that. She was being serious. He wondered if he should go and lock up the knives. Or at least not leave her out of his sight for a little while until she calmed down again. He'd never seen her this wound up before, not even after he had pulled some right doozies on her; not even after the whole Burns debacle, which he was pretty sure she was blaming him for.

"Argh!" Gillian cried her frustration and anger and tears at the ceiling. "And you know what's fucked up? Sophie's caught in the middle of it."

Cal winced and slipped lower in his seat. Yeah, he'd never seen her like this. So angry, so violent, so upset. She ranted and raved and paced around the room and angrily wiped away tears as if they were a nuisance. She was right though. Sophie was caught in the middle. But probably mostly only to Gillian. Gillian couldn't have contact with Sophie without having contact with Ursula. She couldn't rid herself of Ursula without also ridding herself of Sophie. She couldn't cut out the cancer without removing some of the healthy cells around the bad ones too. It was heart achingly inane to also cut her free, but to rid herself of the harmful cancerous mother, Gillian also had to disown the delightful little girl.

"I would have looked after her," Gillian came to a standstill. Cal eyed her warily. "I would have raised her and taken care of her and loved her." She started crying, not that she'd stopped for hours, but this was different. This was a defeated kind of grieving. She stood and her shoulders slumped and she seemed to sag where she was. Cal got up and went to her. He noticed for the first time that it was dark outside, the black snow clouds creating an early twilight. He put a hand tentatively on her shoulder and she turned in to him and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

Cal pressed his hands against her back. She was hot and her tears soaked into his shirt with a fiery intensity. This was her requiem and sorrow. She was finally saying goodbye. He wondered if she had grieved for Sophie at the time she had gone. She had cried, sure, he had witnessed that. But he suspected she hadn't actually dealt with the loss properly. Just like he suspected that Alec hadn't either. The pair of them. Gillian sobbed harder and harder until she was kind of keening. Cal resettled his weight and held her tighter, pressing her against him with his arms locked firmly around her back.

They stood for a long minute and Cal held her and then he tried to pull away a little but she clung on. "Come on," he coaxed gently. "You're tired. Let's put you to bed." Gillian didn't object so he turned slightly and started to walk her out of the room. They moved slowly down the hall and into her bedroom and Cal pulled back the covers intending to push her into bed fully dressed.

"You can leave," Gillian's voice was soft.

Cal turned his head to look at her. She was studying the ground. "I don't mind stayin'."

"I want you to leave."

"You must have mis-heard me luv. I'm not leavin'."

"Cal," she stepped away from him.

"No, I'm not leavin' while you're like this."

She gave him a half shove as she stepped away. "I'm fine."

"No you're not!" Cal insisted. She started crying again and his heart ached for her a little bit more. "Gill, you're not all right," he stepped closer to her and hugged her again. Or at least attempted to. She shoved him again. Harder this time and he took a step back. Gillian dropped to the mattress as she cried deeper and Cal stood helplessly. He really didn't know what to do. Maybe he should leave. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he should go and make her that cup of tea.

He did, to give himself a chance to regroup, to think about how to help her, to think about what to do next. He debated on reinforcements. He debated on sneaking a book off her shelf to look up grief. He couldn't hear her from the kitchen and felt anxious about being away for too long. When he was back in the bedroom, a mug of tea in his hand, he found her lying on the bed, fully dressed, near the middle, her back to the door.

Cal carefully set the mug down on a coaster on her bedside table. He wondered if she had gone to sleep. He closed the curtains carefully and was reaching for a spare blanket hanging over the end of the bed when she spoke so softly he wasn't sure he had heard her at all. "Huh?" he whispered.

"Will you lie with me for a little while?"

Cal hesitated. Hadn't she been asking him to get out a few minutes ago? He approached the bed and she stretched out a hand towards him. "I don't want to be alone," Gillian added meekly.

Cal took her hand and kneeled behind her. She pulled his hand towards her, further and further until he was forced down to her level, until his arm was draped over her waist and the only way for him to be comfortable was to lie down behind her. So he did, trying to keep some distance between the warmth of their bodies.

While Cal listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing, waiting for her to fall asleep so he could sneak out and sleep on the couch, he thought some more. There were two kinds of people. Those who run, who won't face anything. And there are those that look you in the eye when they lie, to see if you believe them. They want to talk to you to see if you're ok with whatever it is that they've done to you. Cal was the first. Ursula was the second. And Gillian was a third type, a new type. The type who turned (no matter how hard they tried to be a first type of person or a second type of person) and had to face their troubles eventually. Gillian felt too much of everything and it was catching up with her now. It had a grip on her heart and it was dragging her down to a whole new level of 'low' she had never experienced before. A whole new 'low' Cal had never seen her in before.

**PJ**

Gillian stretched out as she started to wake. She encountered a warm body and ran her hand down the length of its torso. And then all of a sudden she didn't remember who the hell was in bed with her and then she did remember and her eyes fluttered open with a frown and she pulled her hand back abruptly. "Sorry," she whispered.

"S'all right," Cal murmured back.

Gillian turned on to her back, orientating herself by sense. Cal was lying on her left. She was still fully clothed. And the room was light. It must be morning again. Then she felt the terrible aching of her heart, the stinging of her swollen eyes and the burning of anger still in her throat. This wasn't over.

"How you feelin'?"

"Like utter shit," Gillian bit out.

"Nothing is ever really lost, or can be losti," Cal spoke gently.

"Don't quote poetry at me Cal, I'm not in the mood," Gillian spoke to the wall. Even if it was one of her favourites. She felt him shift next to her and for a second she was scared that he was going to get up and leave. His presence was a great comfort to her, even if he was lying a foot away.

"I'll do whateva you want me to do luv."

Gillian fought down the urge to cry. She'd had enough of that last night. She had made a real fool of herself, the way she had lost it like that. "I'm sorry for last night."

"What are you on?" Cal sounded surprised. Gillian turned her head to look at him. "Don't eva apologise to me for needin' to vent." He turned his head to look at her. His hazel eyes were full of empathy and understanding.

"You know what I keep thinking?"

"What's that?"

"I'm really no better than Ursula."

"How do you figa that one?" Cal asked in disbelief.

"Alec," Gillian explained in one word. "If Sophie had stayed and Alec had started using again. That would have been putting her in the same exact situation Ursula adopted her out of."

Cal's face twitched slightly but he didn't say anything. So Gillian went on. "What if Alec had been using again, what if we'd got into debt, what if he'd been arrested? Sophie would have been no better off. I'd been protecting him for years. I knew about his problem before we even got married. I knowingly potentially put Sophie in that position."

"Gill," Cal said gently, but she didn't want to hear whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I'm serious. Maybe she's better off back with her mother. What if she'd stayed? I couldn't provide her with any better life."

"You don't know what was gonna happen with Alec. He might not have gone back to drugs if Sophie had stayed."

Gillian turned her head to look at the wall again. She really didn't want to hear that. "I really need to believe it worked out the best way for her Cal."

There was a moment's silence. Then she felt Cal's fingers against hers. He was tentative at first and then gained confidence and gripped her fingers tightly. She thought back to Walt Whitman. That really was one of her favourite poems. "The embers left from earlier fires, the light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again."

"Are you tryin' to tell me you're gonna be all right?"

"Yes."

"All right then," he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm gonna stay here until you are."

Gillian looked over at the wall and smiled to herself.

**PJPJPJPJ**

i Whitman, Walt; _Continuities_, New York Herald 1888


	5. Chapter 5

**PJPJPJPJ**

Ursula's hands shook slightly as she put the key in the ignition. Sophie called to her from the back seat, "when are we going Mommy?"

"Now Sophie," she pulled on her seatbelt. "We're leaving now." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Gillian's business partner standing on the side of the road, waiting for her to leave. She hadn't been spoken to like that in a long time. Not since she'd been with Darren. And who the hell was he to ask her to leave? Doctor Lightman, not Darren. That sucker was behind bars, or so she'd heard.

"Mommy, can we get a milkshake?"

"No," Ursula responded. She pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. She couldn't remember how she had gotten there. And all she could focus on was Doctor Lightman's hot breath in her face as he growled out words. What had she done to him? How was this any of his business?

"Why not?"

"Because I said," Ursula slowed for an intersection. Should she go left or right? How did she get back on Route 50? She had come to see Gillian. She needed to talk to her. And Doctor Lightman had just waltzed on in like he owned the place. Bastard.

"I want a chocolate one," Sophie spoke up.

Ursula decided on left. "I said no."

"But chocolate's my favest."

Left was the wrong choice. She saw signs that indicated she was going in the opposite direction. Now she needed somewhere to pull over so she could double back.

"Mom? I said chocolate was my favest."

"I know," Ursula responded feeling her chagrin rising. She was going to have to go all the way down the block to turn around. She was only trying to do something nice for Gillian. Bringing Sophie to see her. Explaining why things had happened the way they had. Doctor Lightman didn't even know anything about it. He didn't know what she'd been through. What she'd had to do to get her daughter back.

"Mom? Where are we going?"

"Home," Ursula answered irritably. Gillian didn't even act grateful that she had driven all the way to DC so they could talk. She just sat there and played with Sophie. Gillian wouldn't even have met Sophie if it wasn't for her. She could act at least a little grateful that she had made the trip over.

"How long is it going to be?"

"Two hours."

It wasn't easy being a parent. Ursula had learnt those lessons the hard way. She was constantly on demand and she had to work to make ends meet. Having Sophie back was less about wanting her baby girl and even less about stepping up to the responsibility. It was more about what Ursula was entitled to. She was her daughter. Not anyone else's. And while she was lucky to have had someone look after _her_ Sophie for nearly three months while she went back to her mother and severed her ties from her old life, that didn't mean that Sophie was Gillian's daughter. They probably had hardly any time to even bond.

"Mom?"

"What Sophie? I'm trying to concentrate on the road!" Ursula exclaimed, the tension of driving in a busy foreign city compounding with an inexplicable guilt she felt over being there in the first place.

"Who was that lady Mommy?"

**PJ**

Cal did something unexpected when he went home later that morning. He shaved. He had a shower and washed his hair like he always did and then he shaved. He didn't know what compelled him to do it; Gillian would probably psycho babble something about making a fresh start, and in some ways she was right, he just didn't like every behaviour being attached to a psychological reasoning. It was almost like having a nice tidy excuse. But if he thought about it even a little, then yeah, he guessed he could say he was making a fresh start. Gillian was and he wanted to make it with her and not get left behind. While she had slept, he had done a lot of thinking.

He got in to the office before Gillian and fielded the questions from his staff, telling them that what had happened yesterday had been intensely personal and that they should respect her privacy and not ask her about it. If she wanted to talk about it with them, then she would. Then he rang Agent Devin, who did not sound very happy to hear from him at all, and apologised for bailing on the conference early, but that Gillian had had a family emergency she had to get back to straight away. Not that that explained why Cal had had to follow her. Agent Devin could put two and two together if he wanted to. That would be nice if he did actually. Cal also reminded him that he had actually held up his end of the bargain. He had given his lecture. He had stayed for that. Then he rang the hotel and organised for their luggage to be sent back to them. By that time, he noticed the papers on his desk. By that time, Gillian had come in.

Cal crossed the hall to her office. "Mornin'."

"Morning again," she gave him a forced smile, one that didn't even glance in the vicinity of her eyes. She looked tired.

"Feelin' all right?"

"You don't have to check up on me every five minutes Cal." The reprimand was light. But with a serious under tow.

"Fair enough luv," Cal took a step back. "I just worry about ya."

Gillian gave him a slight smile, this one a little bit more genuine. "I love that you do."

Cal gave a mock bow as he backed out of her room and strode across the hallway again to his study. He slipped in to it and pulled the door shut behind him. It was then that he noticed his heart was beating rapidly. '_I love that you do_.'

**PJPJPJPJ**

_AN: As I said, Muse and I had a conversation about this fic and I wanted to post it for you so you could see what the prompt was and what my thought processes are when it comes to writing something. _

_Muse: I wish that Gillian could reunite with Sophie on the show eventually; I wish the writers could make that happen for her._

_PJ: this is harsh, but those kinds of fairy tales don't happen in real life HOWEVER! I could be talked into a run in on the street if they happen to be in Delaware... _

_Muse: THAT could work for me _

_PJ: not that Sophie would remember her cos she was very young _

_Muse: muse likes _

_PJ: and also, Gillian might not even recognise her cos she was so young BUT the mother would. she would recognise Gillian _

_Muse: omg u r good _

_Thank you for reading. As always thank you so much for reviewing, every one of you, I thank you personally. You are, what Doctor Callian calls, my loyal 'groupies' and I love that you found me on this site. _

_P.S I made Muse write a note too, because she was the silent partner in this piece. And also, Muse was so tickled by the first review we got for this story by Sash queen of the jungle, because she dubbed it a 'special callian', which is exactly what it is, even when we didn't intend for it to be like that in the beginning. I just can't help myself; and you and Muse didn't object…_

**Muse's Note: Hey, people: This is Muse. Previously introduced by PJ as HER MUSE. I was in charge of the triggers, the ideas that later became beautifully written paragraphs, some twists n turns, the naming of Miss Ursula Hopkins (the disease) and mostly the editing (green-lighted by PJ, because I'm her Muse not her boss) So we wrote this lovely piece together but apart and loved every minute of it. We are delighted that you guys loved it too and are impressed with the success that this first collaboration of ours was, because we knew we were onto something great from the beginning but we never knew exactly how this was gonna turn out once posted. **

**Long story short, I put my muse cape on and came up with some lines which PJ turned into gold or bathed in gold for our reading pleasure.**

**I asked her to challenge you guys to see if you knew what was next, not just as far as the fic went - which is what some of you guessed correctly - but also, to see if you guys could figure out who am I and I'm glad to see that her previous AN on chapter one was vague enough, that you couldn't really figure me out yet. **

**PJ and I are full of surprises, there is more to come from where this came from. Stay tuned and thank you so very much for RnR-ing us.**

**Muse ;)**

**PJPJPJPJ**

**Requiem And Sorrow: Secui Duos.**

**Prologue:**

Gillian turned to Cal as he slid into the car again. The package he had insisted on picking up before they left was under his arm, held protectively and as he sat he carefully tucked it under his seat. "What is it?"

"A picture," he responded reaching for his seatbelt.

"And it couldn't wait until we got back?"

"No," he answered while clipping the seatbelt in place. Gillian continued to watch him amused but he didn't respond. "Ready?" He finally looked up.

"Yes," she gave a nod. "But promise me we're not going to run into something sordid from your past on this trip."

Cal gave a lazy kind of smile and turned towards the ignition. "I don't know anyone in Pittsburgh."

"You better not. I don't think I could deal with any more drama."

At the airport Cal took the picture from under his seat and slid it into the bag with his laptop.

**PJPJPJPJ**


End file.
